Brother
by Chrystel Malfoy-Potter
Summary: QLC. Regulus looked up to his brother. The older boy was cool, strong and most of all, his brother. But why does big brother hate him so? A story of a boy searching for his distant brother.


**Disclaimer**: Much to my dismay, and for many others I am sure, the book series Harry Potter does not, and will never, belong to me. So thank you J. K Rowling for allowing us to borrow your characters and books.

**Warnings**: Mentions of canonic death.

**AN**: I somehow got persuaded to join the Quidditch League Competition so I'll be writing a oneshot every two weeks to try to win this tournament. Every two weeks, I will be given a prompt that I will have to fulfill as Captain of the Kenmare Kestrels. The stories must be T-rated, minimum 1,000 words and maximum 3,000. Wish me luck so that my team and I can win. =)

_Since one of my teammates has gone AWOL, I'm writing a quick story so that my team won't loose all the points. Her prompt was **Regulus Black**. On top of this, my team is trying to create a link between our stories using the tapestry as an object that will appear in each of our stories, whether it will be a central thing or not. Hope this works and that you like this story._

**Summary**: QLC. Regulus looked up to his brother. The older boy was cool, strong and most of all, his brother. But why does big brother hate him so? A story of a boy searching for his distant brother.

**Word-Count: 1,315 words (including the title). **

**Brother**

The very first memory Regulus could recall was that of his brother. Sirius was standing beside him, helping Regulus ride his very first broom. They were in one of the numerous corridors of the house, somewhere dark, with only a few strands of light. Sirius was beside him, holding the broomstick in mid-air so that Regulus could climb on it. Regulus started to float down the corridor, with his big brother holding with one hand the broom so that it didn't float away.

It was one of the most precious memories Regulus had of his brother. The siblings were rarely allowed to express any sort of emotions. Since they were finally breathing a bit of fresh air, far from the suffocating atmosphere of what a Black should be, the brothers allowed themselves to smile and laugh.

Looking back now, Regulus wondered why they could keep such an innocent, carefree, happy, time like when they were children. Where his brother, Sirius, would focus his attention only on him, take care of him and teach him big brother stuff. Never, in a thousand years, could Regulus imagine that Sirius would become so cold and distant from him.

The changes started when Sirius came back from Hogwarts, after being sorted in Gryffindor. It didn't matter in which House his brother was sorted, not for Regulus at least. But for his mother, father and even for Sirius himself, it was like a capital crime. His parents would ignore their son, not unless he would repent, denounce his friends and come back to the Black values.

His brother, on the other hand, would ignore the rest of his family, lumping his baby brother with them. His reasoning was that if he continued to be so stubborn, hiding behind a wall of silence, then it would force his parents to accept his choices. At least, that was what Regulus believed, he never really learned how to read his brother, much to his dismay.

If it was only year, then Regulus would have forgiven his brother, since he would have gotten his sibling back. Yet, year after year, things grew worse between Sirius and the rest of his family. Tensions deepening even further until there practically no light to escape from such a darkness.

On the outside, Regulus kept his disdainful distance from Sirius, following the examples of his parents. On the inside, however, everything was the complete opposite. Regulus was crying deep inside, wanting for his brother to turn his cold stare into a warm look. He would give anything, anything at all for the old times.

It would never be. After a while, it became quite clear that what Regulus desired would never come to be. So Regulus began to act exactly like his brother wanted. If you can't beat them, join them as the saying went. Joining the Death Eaters was only one of the many things that Regulus knew that his brother would hate.

It wasn't so glamorous as many were led to believe. The Dark Lord was mad, that was the only word that could describe him. Cold, calculative and charismatic were also words that Regulus would use. Every time something didn't go his way, the Dark Lord would torture one of his followers, practically killing them when he lost control. And that hissing! Argh, the use of parseltongue gave him the creeps, no other words to describe it.

Contrary to what most people were led to believe — read his mother —, Regulus wasn't that naive when he joined the Dark Ranks. As any self-respecting Black, Regulus had researched and gathered any scraps of informations he could get his hands on, wanting to know who he was swearing his loyalty to, what were his goals (and not the spouted propaganda) and, more importantly, what sort of past the Dark Lord had.

Needless to say he was not impressed that the so-called Heir of Slytherin was only a half-blood, the very thing he was spouting. Nonetheless, it was much to late to back out, as he had already taken the mark for three years. That last little tid bit had arrived far to late for Regulus' liking.

However, the worst news came only six months later, when a certain book came into his position. It's subject? Horcruxes, a magic so foul, so evil, so dark, that even the Dark Families dare not tread in such Forbidden Arts. When he read the book, cover to cover, he knew what the Dark Lord had done. He had puked for hours, after reading some of the descriptions that fit the Dark Lord to a T, wishing for his brother to be beside him right now. Wishing for Sirius to hug him, stroke his hair and telling him that everything will be alright.

Wishful thinking that Regulus regretted as soon as that moment of weakness passed. Instead, he tried to plan how to weaken the Dark Lord to the best of his capabilities, ignoring the taunting voice that he was only running away from the real problem. First thing first, he had to gain the Dark Lord's trust as being one of his most loyal followers — not the best as that title was reserved for Mad Madame Bellatrix Lestrange — so that he could access his horcrux.

Regulus didn't have to wait long for such an occasion. Not to soon, the Dark Lord came to see him, wanting a House Elf for some mysterious purpose. Regulus readily accepted, offering Kreacher for his so-called master. What Voldemort didn't know was that Regulus had ordered Kreacher to report back to him as soon as his task was done.

While waiting for his House Elf to do his duty, Regulus stared at the Family tapestry. In particular, the spot where his brother's name once laid, the blackened scorch being the only lasting mark the young man could physically see. He could still see, in his mind's eye, the script that formed the words: Sirius Orion Black. Somehow, it brought him some comfort to see such a thing.

When his House Elf came back from his imposed mission, Regulus had gathered enough courage to go through with the plan he had formed. Passing through the Inferi infested lake was cinch then what was about to come. Despite his loyal servant's pleading, Regulus refused for Kreacher to drink the potion. Regulus didn't want to live, preferring the sweet death of the Last Vision Potion. He would be able to slip into Death's embrace with one, final, sweet vision.

The quicksilver poison was like liquid heat, spreading throughout his body. Through clenched teeth, the youngest of Blacks ordered Kreacher with his final instructions: to take the locket and destroy it, through any means possible!

Once he was finally alone, Regulus allowed the potion to finally take effect. Slipping slowly into the lake, the potion showed one final memory, filling Regulus' mind.

Regulus didn't feel the cold seeping his skin and bones, but rather the warmth of that warm sunny day.

Regulus didn't feel the cold touch of the Inferi, but rather the warm one of his brother.

Regulus didn't taste the foul water of the lake, but rather the dusty air as it filled the dark corridor.

Regulus didn't hear the moaning and groaning of the undead in the water, but rather the laughter of two boys having fun.

Regulus didn't see the dark, damp and dreaded cave, but rather that sunny day when Sirius first taught him how to ride a broom.

It was the first memory that Regulus could recall. It was the last memory that the Last Vision potion brought forth, to allow the drinker one of the most peaceful and happiest death he could ever wish.

Only one thought marred his mind before it became blank.

_Why did Sirius leave me all alone? Why does big brother hate me so?_

**AN: What did you guys think?  
**


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